Page 12 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
I turn slowly and take in his profile. “Where would I send mail to?”
Fed reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a card. “Ma’s friend runs a business in So-Cal. She uses this PO Box address. You can reach me this way.”
“Is that where you’re going? California?”
He sighs and clicks his tongue. “I don’t know where we’ll settle, but I don’t think Ma’s friend is moving any time soon. This is the most reliable address I can give you.”
I fold the note between my fingers and turn to face out the windshield again. “In that case, I’ll write youthere.” I don’t know what else to say. I feel numb, as though my body has shut down.
Suddenly, Fed takes my face and turns it toward him. His fingers dig a little too deeply into my jaw.
“I’m going to come back for you Tess, I promise. I’m going to make those bastards pay for what they’ve done.”
His anguished expression shocks me out of my numbness and I swallow a hard lump in my throat. Feelings start to tumble over themselves in my stomach and I feel an unbridled urge to dance, to get them out.
“I’m going to kill that fucker Bernadi and take you far away from here so you don’t have to live with the constant reminders of what happened to your mama.”
A tear starts to form in the corner of my eye. I stare back at him, feeling his fingers fall from my face to my hands.
“I love you, Tess. You know that, don’t you?”
I blink at him, suddenly overwhelmed.
“You’re mine now and I’m going to come back for you. I promise.”
I nod and grope around for the door handle, then step out of the car, drawing in a lungful of air. It isn’t enough—I still feel like I’m suffocating.
Without any warning, Fed leans over the passenger seat, yanks the door closed and accelerates off down the street without a backward glance.
I look through the gates to my home, acutely aware of the growing dampness in my underwear. Without looking, I know it’s blood.
I turn my back to the gates and make my way to the beach nearby. It’s not much of a beach—more a sandy clearing sheltered by oversized dunes and thickly planted palms. With any luck it will be deserted. I don’t ‘people’ well at the best of times, and right now I could live with the idea of never speaking to another human again.
Thankfully, the coast is clear, and I stand at the edge of the sea staring out into a vast expanse of nothing. Just a pink sky, a vague horizon and never-ending depths. I don’t think before I strip off my clothes, scattering them on the shore as I stride into the waves. They draw me in without words, without reason. They seem to know what I need.
The floor drops away and I dip beneath the surface. All sound disappears and finally, there’s quiet.
My eyes sting but I open them anyway. I swim deeper, further, freer. With each stroke, a nerve unravels and a muscle releases. I can breathe again.
After a few minutes, I turn back to the shore. The wind has picked up and the waves crash against me as I stride out of the water. At the edge I stop and stare at my clothes. As the realization I just skinny-dipped for the first time in my life dawns on me, I scoop up the clothes and race to the trees, pulling them over my wet limbs.
My heart is racing but, for the first time in forever, I feel free.
Contessa
Three years later
I look up at the enormous house my sister now calls home and wonder, not for the first time, how fate can be so cruel.
Three years after my best friend was sent away, my sister goes and falls in love with the new don of the Di Santo family, Cristiano.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against Cristiano—he makes Trilby the happiest I’ve ever seen her—but I haveeverythingagainst the organization he’s just taken over and the company he keeps. Most notably, Benito Bernadi, the manwho ruined my life.
I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on what happened in the final days of my friendship with Federico. I rushed into losing my virginity without giving it proper thought. If there hadn’t been the pressure of Fed leaving town, I would have at least spent time considering it before turning him down. I simply didn’t think of Federico in that way. But I felt sorry for him in that moment. And for that, Benito Bernadi is entirely to blame.
I didn’t think I’d ever need to see the Di Santo’s consigliere again, but the day we attended Gianni’s funeral was the day I realized that as long as Trilby is involved with the Di Santo’s (which, having seen the way she and Cristiano can’t be apart for more than a minute, is likely to be forever,) I’m not going to escape the sight of him.
My youngest sister, Bambi, slips her hand into mine. “Come on! This place is huge, and there’s no scary Savero here anymore. We can explore to our hearts’ content.”
